


Captain Hydra

by Shadow15



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: But Maybe Serious, Confusion, Crack, Don't Take It Too Seriously Though, Neither Does Hydra, Steve Rogers Has No Idea What's Going On, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-04-07 09:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19082251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow15/pseuds/Shadow15
Summary: Misunderstandings happen, but when your future self travels back in time and convinces a deadly organisation that you are one of them, it doesn’t tend to work out well. Especially when Rumlow seems to be your biggest fan. What did Steve ever do to deserve this?





	1. Chapter 1

“Did you know Cap was one of us?”

The elevator continued its steady descent as the STRIKE team all shook their heads. Rollins looked at Sitwell, his lips moving wordlessly for a few moments as he tried to sift through so much incoherent thought and form a comprehensible sentence. “…You think… we can trust that guy?”

“We gave him the briefcase,” Rumlow reminded, with more gruff than usual. Rollins couldn’t help but wonder why exactly that was, because Hydra cosying up with Captain America wasn’t going to look great in any form, regardless of if the man was on their side or not. “And he said he’s spoken with Pierce. No way he could have figured it out on his own; he’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Apparently not enough of an idiot for Pierce to have recruited him,” Sitwell murmured. “Pierce must have his reasons. We won’t question this.”

And question, they did not. Though perhaps they _should_ have, considering the events to follow.

* * *

 

The knock at Steve’s apartment door was unexpected, but still, Steve answered it hesitantly. He was tired, in the middle of washing up after the mess that had been the attack on New York. Regardless, he’d assumed it would be Tony, or maybe even Fury with more debriefing; with Loki having disappeared from their custody, the amount of paperwork was going to be insane.

It wasn’t Tony, or Fury, or even anyone Steve would have expected. It was the STRIKE agent, Brock Rumlow, and Steve was just too tired to deal with this mess; he’d rather get into the warm bath he’d _just_ drawn, soak for an hour, and then go straight to bed.

Of course, life seemed to have it out for Steve, and so he resigned himself to the fact that it looked like he was going to entertain a guest. Hopefully not for too long; he’d only met Rumlow briefly, but the man didn’t give him good vibes.

“Rumlow.” The exhaustion in Steve’s voice was palpable, but still, he was polite. He stepped back to allow entrance, and it was accepted immediately, Rumlow pushing past and wandering further in to the apartment to take a better look around.

“Wow, you live in this dump, Cap?” Rumlow hadn’t striked Steve as a man with manners, but still. Rumlow could have at least phrased that a little nicer. “You don’t get paid enough for being a superhero?”

Steve didn’t want to deal with this. It would be easier to just go along with Rumlow and hope he’d leave quicker. “Nope.”

“Guess stickin’ your neck out on the line like that isn’t worth much to Fury.” Rumlow turned back to face Steve, with an almost curious look in his eyes. Steve just put it down to Rumlow being some sort of fan; he’d grown used to it long ago, after all. “Say, Cap, if we’re gonna be workin’ together from now on, then we should get to know each other.”

Steve didn’t hesitate to shake Rumlow’s hand when Rumlow extended it. He thought nothing of those words; put it all down to them both working for SHIELD and never considered there could be something more behind those words. Like Steve had already guessed… Fan boys. “Yep.”

“You know, you seemed a lot more talkative back at Stark Tower. You’re kinda an asshole, aren’t you?” Rumlow smirked at the annoyed look on Steve’s face. “Yeah, we’re all kinda assholes, though. Gotta be to survive in the business. You know how it is.”

Steve shrugged. “I’m sorry for being a poor host; I am very tired.”

Rumlow waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, we’re cool, man. I was just surprised, you know? Like, I wasn’t expectin’ it. Not in a million years.”

“Nor was I,” Steve agreed wearily. Rumlow must have been talking about Loki, because _that_ had certainly caught him off-guard, too. “But crazier things have happened.”

“Yeah, cool. We were talkin’ ‘bout it on the way back to HQ. Rollins still doesn’t know what to say, but Sitwell’s cool with it. Me too, man. You’d make an awesome ally. I should give you our asset once in a while; you’d kick ass with it.”

“Sorry, but weapons aren’t really my style.” Steve bit back a yawn. “Would you like anything to drink, Agent Rumlow?”

Rumlow shook his head. “Nah, I gotta run; Rollins will get suspicious if I’m gone too long.”

Ah, so Rumlow _was_ a fan and wanted five minutes with Captain America. It would have been endearing if Steve didn’t have such a bad impression of the man. “Okay. Thanks for the visit, Agent Rumlow. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”

“Yeah. I hope to work together! It’d be interesting.” And with that, Rumlow was gone.

Steve moved back to the door and locked it, shaking his head as he went back to the bathroom to _finally_ enjoy his soak. What a strange man Rumlow was.

At least he seemed harmless though. That was always a plus.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Steve hadn’t thought that his life could get any weirder. Waking up from a seventy years long sleep was strange in itself, and the following alien invasion had been the icing on the cake – at least, he had thought so. Apparently the fact that Rumlow thought they were best friends now was even weirder than fighting aliens.

“And so Rollins, the son o’ a bitch!” Rumlow was kicking back on the sofa in Steve’s living room, with his feet propped up on the coffee table and a bottle of beer in hand like he owned the place. His voice was slurring, and Steve had already spent the past two hours sitting in the chair opposite, nodding politely every now and then with Rumlow long-since tuned out. “Son o’ a bitch says to me, Brock, ya fuckin’ idiot, you _wanna_ get on Fury’s bad side?”

Steve nodded again, but his attention barely strayed from the newspaper he was reading. “Don’t make Fury mad; I agree.”

Rumlow’s ramble continued, something or other about Rollins again, and then the complaints about Sitwell, Murphy and their newest recruits came next. Steve stood up to escape to his bedroom for a while and take some time to himself before his sanity left him, but as soon as he stood up, Rumlow was on his feet as well and stumbling after Steve like an overly-attached child not wanting its mother to leave its sight.

Steve sighed heavily as Rumlow’s ramblings never stopped, but his mother hadn’t raised him to be rude, and so Steve remained as polite as ever, no matter how much he just wanted to be alone.

Perhaps giving Rumlow beer wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had.

Steve regretted his decision even more when Rumlow climbed onto his bed and curled up into a ball, looking very much like he was comfortable at his own home and ready to sleep for the night.

“What?” Rumlow must have noticed the look on Steve’s face. He shrugged carelessly, seeing nothing wrong with his actions. “We’re pals, aren’t we? I’d say best buds, but Rollins might shoot you if he finds out I like someone more than that useless bastard.”

Steve dropped his face into his hands. He’d thought Rumlow was a bit on the quiet side when they’d first met, but all it had taken was a few visits for Rumlow to start talking Steve’s ears off like someone who had never had a friend before. The alcohol certainly didn’t help matters. “Why don’t you have a sleep...?”

Rumlow waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, I got... I got a mission to leave for soon, man. Just waitin’ for the newbies to get the asset ready and loaded into the van, then they’ll come get me.”

Steve hoped that Rumlow was drunk enough to fall asleep on the bed. At the very least, he’d welcome Rumlow resting his eyes for five minutes just to get some _peace_.

But of course, nothing ever went right for Steve, and Rumlow was chasing Steve from the room again.

“Hey, what’s your schedule like?” Rumlow didn’t even seem to notice when he’d tripped and almost fallen to the ground; he kept his pace, his eyes never leaving Steve’s form. “I can fit ya in for this mission if you like. It’s meant to be a tough one; could use your help.”

“Sorry, but I have to meet with Fury and the other Avengers tonight.” It wasn’t true, but damnit if Steve was going to willingly spend any longer with a drunken Rumlow. “Maybe next time.”

Rumlow waved a dismissive hand. “Hey. You know, Pierce says that you -“

Steve held his breath when Rumlow’s phone buzzed with a message; _please_ be the good news he was _begging_ for...

“Shit, man, gotta go.” Rumlow wrinkled his nose at his phone. “Mission started.”

“Are they picking you up?” Steve wasn’t a monster; if Rumlow was in any danger of driving himself around right now, he was going to have to put a stop to it, even if it meant driving Rumlow somewhere himself.

“Yeah, they’re here. See you later, man.”

Steve restrained the urge to whoop out of joy once the front door closed behind Rumlow. He wouldn’t speak bad about the STRIKE agent; Rumlow was rude, but he’d never done anything for Steve to dislike him. He could even see them perhaps being friends somewhere in the future.

Maybe, if Rumlow left him alone once in a while and used his manners.

With Rumlow gone, Steve got ready for his day. He hadn’t exactly lied; he _did_ have to meet up with the other Avengers, but it wasn’t necessarily out of duty; rather, it was comforting to have their presence in such a disconcerting world he still didn’t quite understand. Tony was in the middle of teaching him about the internet, and Steve was eager for his weekly lesson - after Rumlow’s visit, some downtime was only too welcome. He got ready quickly, and his journey to Stark Tower went by pleasantly.

“Hey, Tony.” Steve found Tony down in the lab, with Bruce by his side. “I’ve had the weirdest week.”

“What’s weirder than being a capsicle?” Tony put down the soldering iron he’d been working with so he could slide the mat to Bruce at his side and hand the job over. “What, you get stuck in a walk-in freezer?”

“Don’t be silly; of course not.” Steve lent against the wall and folded his arms against his chest. He fixed Tony with a firm gaze, not minding that Bruce was minding his own business; Bruce always had been on the quieter side, and Steve liked that about him. “You know Brock Rumlow?”

“Not really, but go on.” Tony was examining his blueprints, not even looking at Steve. It was almost reminiscent of how Steve dealt with Rumlow’s visits.

“Well, he’s been at my apartment almost every day. I barely spoke five words to him and then he’s at my apartment door being my best friend.”

“Tell him to get in the queue because we were here first.” There was a possessive tone in Tony’s voice, and Steve couldn’t help but smile warmly; they’d gotten off on the wrong foot, but he did like to think of the other Avengers as his friends. “You want me to take him out, Cap? You say the word and I’ll send a horde of suits after him.”

“No, he’s okay, Tony. I just wish he’d shut up once in a while! He’s strange, though. He keeps pestering me to go on missions with him. I offered him autographs once to try and get him to leave me alone for a while but I think it only encouraged him.”

Finally, Bruce spoke up from whatever it was he’d been soldering. “He sounds lonely, Cap.”

“Or clingy. Emotionally needy. Probably a real nightmare in bed.” Tony shrugged at the horrified glances he was answered with. “What? Just saying; I know the type. You know how many girls still try getting in here?”

“I _really_ don’t think that’s what it’s about, Tony...” Steve muttered. Finally, he unfolded his arms and moved further into the lab so he could see what his friends were doing. “Anyway, you guys want any help? I have all day.”

“Perfect. You can be the Guinea pig. You’ve been saved, Banner.”

Bruce rolled his eyes at Tony, but he was only too welcoming as he showed Steve their blueprints and taught him what to do.

It was moments like these that didn’t make this new life so cold and unwelcoming.

***

Steve was awoken in the middle of the night by someone banging at his front door. He jumped out of bed and grabbed his shield, creeping silently through the apartment so he could investigate. He could hear muttering, and with his enhanced hearing, he could make out a muffled, “And _don’t_ kill him!” before someone ran off, judging by the hasty footfalls that grew distant within seconds.

Steve yanked open the door cautiously, prepared for a fight. What he saw almost had him slamming it shut again, but there seemed to be no immediate threat to his safety; the... _person_ on the other side of the door hadn’t moved a muscle from where they were standing.

Steve frowned as he opened the door wider just a little more. He’d been startled like hell by the unnerving sight those big, black goggles accompanied by a black mask covering the wearer’s nose and mouth made; for a brief second, Steve had wondered if he’d died and gone to hell some time throughout the night.

But like Steve had said, they hadn’t moved at all, and seemed only interested in staring back at him.

“Can I help you...?” Steve was frowning, not knowing what to do. Part of him thought to call SHIELD, to alert them to a real-life walking scarecrow that may or may not be out to get him - but before he could do so, his visitor thrust one arm out towards him and offered a sheet of paper in their gloved hand.

Steve took the paper warily and read. _Mission compromised. The big guy was seen. Take care of him._

Steve could only imagine who had left this note, and as he continued reading, his suspicions became more and more realistic.

 _P.S, feed him. P.P.S, he only listens to me._ Steve almost missed the last bit scribbled hastily on the back of the paper. _P.P.P.S, his name is Winter. P.P.P.P.S, he’s kinda an asshole like you._

Yep. Definitely Rumlow’s doing.

Steve sighed, and against his better judgement - really, just looking at this guy, could anyone blame him for being hesitant? - he stepped back and allowed his visitor inside. The guy - Winter, apparently - reached down to his side to take a backpack from the ground Steve hadn’t even noticed and stepped in. He stopped by the doorway and looked around, cocking his head, but his expression remained unseen beneath his facial gear. Steve hoped Winter wasn’t judging his living quarters as well.

“Well...” Steve shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He eyed the oversized hoodie Winter was wearing over his tac gear that didn’t hide the numerous amount of weapons Steve could still see hidden beneath. Damn STRIKE team and their apparent love for weapons. “You wanna borrow some pyjamas and get some sleep? It’s... three-thirty apparently.”

No response. Winter just stayed where he was and looked around like he was an art fanatic in a museum. At least, that’s how Steve interpreted it with his face hidden. Maybe he was actually thinking about the best way to burn the place down. He wandered further inside, seemingly curious about the new environment, Steve was sure. ...Well, Steve _hoped._

Steve stepped to Winter’s side. “If the mission’s compromised, why aren’t you at a SHIELD safe house? It isn’t safe for any of us for you to be he - hey!”

Winter had snatched Steve’s shield from his hands with surprising strength. The only thing that stopped Steve from getting on the offensive about the sudden act of aggression was the way Winter’s gloved fingers moved over the edges of the shield where he held it. It almost appeared that he needed the touch to satisfy his curiosity.

Steve winced when Winter got bored and tossed the shield over his shoulder like a discarded candy wrapper on the street. He watched the way his guest moved to the living room and stared everything down, giving Steve the god honest impression of a child _looking_ for mischief.

“Right... You need sleep.” Steve left Winter alone for two minutes to fetch blankets and a pillow to make a bed on the couch. When he returned, his photo frames were on the ground, and Winter was in the kitchen, in the process of pulling food out of the cupboards to abandon onto the ground. “Winter!”

Winter turned to look at Steve briefly before he dropped a tin of soup into the pile in what could only be defiance.

Steve sighed. He finished making the bed up before he pinched the bridge of his nose and murmured, “You want something to eat before you go to bed...?”

Winter nodded. He pointed to the backpack he had abandoned in the living room before he returned to his assault on Steve’s food supply.

Steve grabbed the backpack and opened it. He shifted through the endless amount of weapons in search of food, but all he could find that might even have the slightest possibility of being marginally nutritious was a bag of clear liquid and some tubes that reminded Steve of the ones hospital patients wore in their noses sometimes.

“Is this it?” Steve waved the bag to get Winter’s attention. He sighed when he received another nod. Why couldn’t this be as easy as Winter getting onto the couch and going to sleep? “Right. Let me see... Is there instructions or what? I don’t know what to do.”

Winter abandoned the cupboards - Steve theorised he’d just gotten bored now that everything had found a new home at his feet - and came to snatch the items from Steve’s grip. When Steve reached out to his face to take the mask from him, he slapped the other’s hands away. He’d have bitten had his mask already been removed.

Steve was too tired to deal with this. “I’m going to bed... I’ll... see you in the morning, I guess.”

Steve returned to his room and went back to bed. He didn’t know how long he’d slept for, but when his eyes snapped open to a loud crash from his living room, he was wide awake once again.

“Winter!” Steve scolded at the sight of his books thrown carelessly around the living room, and his TV face-down on the floor, Winter standing beside it and prodding it with a curious boot. “Just - Just _go to sleep_!”

And that was the moment Steve decided Rumlow was really an evil bastard deep down. No kind person would have landed Steve with _Winter -_ at least, not until he’d slept, anyway.

 

***

Steve gave up on trying to clean his apartment. He’d put one thing away and Winter would pull out ten more. Steve didn’t think he was doing it to be horrible; instead, it seemed to be some sort of hyperactive boredom, and Steve’s heart tugged as decades-old memories flooded his mind.

Winter settled only when he’d stopped tearing pages from a book and instead found a photo, one that Fury had gotten from somewhere and given to Steve. He sat back on the couch, perfectly straight, like a loyal soldier awaiting his commands as he stared at the photo through his goggles. Steve looked over Winter’s shoulder to see what he had, and his heart broke even more at the sight.

“That was my friend…” Steve came from the back of the couch to sit next to Winter and put his fingers longingly over the photograph. “His name was Bucky. He… died. A long time ago.”

Winter said nothing. He looked at Steve for a few moments before he looked back at the photo. Steve didn’t understand when Winter mimicked his movements and caressed it with his own gloved fingertips.

Steve offered a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t know why. But you kinda remind me of him. You’re even as stubborn and pigheaded as he was. Destructive, too.”

Winter cocked his head to the side. He hadn’t made a sound since his arrival, so Steve wasn’t going to expect him to speak. Winter put the photo down and stood up, and what could only be by a miracle, he started cleaning up his mess.

Steve didn’t understand. He didn’t question it, though. He simply grabbed the photo and tucked it away into his jacket to spare it the same fate that had befallen most of his books.

Winter wasn’t _so_ bad. At least he was quiet. Maybe there was more wrong with Steve than he’d realised for him to say that he might just prefer Winter’s company to Rumlow’s. At least, he definitely would if Winter would stop trashing his home every five seconds.


	3. Chapter 3

Winter stayed with Steve for three days before Rumlow came back for him, with Murphy and another agent Steve didn’t recognise in tow. The first thing Steve said to them was, “He’s a nightmare.”

Rumlow snorted. Murphy, the SHIELD scientist Steve hadn’t really met properly until this moment, laughed. His eyes were kind, and his tone even kinder as he looked to the couch to see Winter peering over the back of it to stare at them. The unidentified agent who had come with them stood off at the back, watching with a scowl as Murphy murmured fondly, “Winter always has a lot of energy. Especially when he’s off missions. He’s not used to being stuck inside for so long; I do apologise. I know he can be a bit of a handful.”

“Winter.” The very second Rumlow called for him, Winter was off the couch and standing straight at Rumlow’s side, not moving a muscle. Rumlow patted his elbow. “Good boy.”

“He listens to you.” Steve gestured over his shoulder at his trashed apartment. “I can’t even get him to sit still for five minutes.”

“That’s ‘cause you ain’t his handler - he ain’t gonna listen to no one but me.” Rumlow’s smirk widened. “What, you _want_ him to listen to ya, Cap?”

“It’d be ideal…” Steve muttered beneath his breath; what he wouldn’t give to have _some_ sort of control over the state of his apartment during Winter’s visits.

Rumlow laughed. “Sorry, Cap, but all Winter’s handlers are carefully picked by Pierce; he’d skin me alive if I let you handle him.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, let’s _go_!” Whined the agent at the back. All eyes turned to him, and Steve couldn’t help but cock his eyebrow when the man continued vehemently, as if Steve had drowned his puppy and never been forgiven for it. “You’re really going to trust _him_? Of all people? I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could _throw_ him!”

“I’m sorry?” Steve frowned. Did this man mistake him for _Hydra_ or something? No way; it was a no-brainer that he hated Hydra with every fibre of his being and wanted to take out everyone ever associated with the organisation.

“See the fucker playing stupid? And _Pierce_ trusts this guy!”

“Fuck up, Watt!” Rumlow snapped. “We’re cool with Cap! Piss off if you don’t like it!”

Steve’s eyes snapped to Winter when he stiffened at the agent’s approach. Winter’s body was rigid for all of two seconds before he moved to stand in front of Rumlow. His movement had Watt stopping in his tracks, apparently making him think over his actions, but perhaps not enough, because he changed directions and made for Steve instead.

Steve stood his ground, unwavering as the other spewed cusses at him like he’d murdered the man’s grandmother. Seriously, what was this guy’s problem? They were standing so close now, so close their chests almost brushed as they stared each other down. It was when Watt moved his hand out to Steve did Winter move again and, in the blink of an eye, have Watt pinned to the ground by his throat.

“Whoa, whoa!” Steve was on his knees, separating the two. “No need for that! No need for that! Whoa!”

Winter let go and straightened without hesitation. Rumlow and Murphy shared a look before they both glanced at Winter with dubiously curious expressions for a few moments. Rumlow took charge after that, dragging Watt to his feet and screaming at him for speaking to Steve so badly. “He’s _our_ fuckin’ comrade and if ya don’t like it, piss off somewhere else!”

Watt stormed away, and all Steve could do was rub the back of his neck sheepishly as he watched him go. “Sorry, Rumlow, I didn’t mean to, uh… cause a mutiny?”

Rumlow shrugged. “That guy was always a fucker. Last mission we had with him and Winter, the bastard hit him with a stun baton for nothin’!”

Murphy quickly looked unaffected by the turn of events as he wrapped his arms around Winter and gleefully announced to Steve, “Winter sees you as one of us! He’s only supposed to protect his handler when on the field!”

Steve couldn’t work out what this ‘handler’ business was. It didn’t sound great to him, but Winter seemed content enough in their presence - hell, he’d shielded Rumlow when a threat arose. Winter was a healthy weight, and there were no marks on him to hint at any abuse going on behind the scenes. It was strange to think about the whole situation, but as Steve watched the way Murphy _crooned_ to Winter about his cats, Steve couldn’t help but think that Rumlow may be annoying at times, but he _did_ seem to be a good team leader. Steve couldn’t see him letting harm befall Winter.

“Anyway, we gotta go - get the big buy back before Pierce throws a tantrum.” Rumlow rolled his eyes as he patted Winter’s elbow again. “Thanks for lookin’ after him; it was tough to work out where to hide him.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Steve offered a smile. He watched the others turn around to leave, but what he couldn’t work his head around was the way Winter stared over his shoulder to keep his hidden eyes presumably locked on Steve until they’d rounded a corner and were out of sight.

Well, anyone associated with STRIKE - particularly the Alpha team, Steve was learning - were strange, but at least they seemed to be decent enough people beneath all that.

***

Rollins was Steve’s next visitor, and Steve couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at Rollins being _much_ easier than Rumlow to deal with. At least Rollins knew how to use his manners.

“May I get myself a drink, Captain Rogers?” Rollins was the politest man Steve had ever met when compared to Rumlow.

“Of course,” Steve agreed. He turned his attention back to the ball game on the TV, pleased to have company during. It was a nice way to fight off the loneliness he’d felt since coming out of the ice – perhaps he’d been lonelier than he’d realised since every so often he found himself missing even _Rumlow’s_ presence.

Rollins returned to the living area with a can of coke, and an extra one in tow that he passed to Steve. He took a seat on the sofa next to Steve, cracking open the can and taking a gulp before he murmured, “Captain, has Pierce debriefed for you the mission yet?”

“Mission?” Steve followed Rollins’ lead and opened his own can. “No, he hasn’t.”

“Oh. Well, Pierce wants to make you an official STRIKE member. He’s got a mission coming up he wants you to be part of – says you’ll be a great addition.”

“Sure, I can help out,” Steve promised. “I never mind helping my friends.”

“Friends?” Rollins cocked his eyebrow and frowned, as if he didn’t understand the terminology used. His frown grew deeper. “People don’t usually consider others as _friends_ in our line of work, Captain.”

Steve shrugged. “Well, I’m not exactly _people,_ am I? I consider you and Agent Rumlow as friends – it would be rude of me not to with how often Agent Rumlow finds himself in my living room, after all.”

“Ah… Just ignore him, Captain; he gets a little… _obsessed_ with people sometimes. Honestly, I think the guy isn’t all there mentally. He’s lonely, but he’s also a little… I dunno; _mental_ is the kindest way to put it.”

“He is eccentric, but he means well,” Steve defended gently. “He is a friend; I accept him and his oddities.”

Rollins let out a heavy sigh. “You’re too soft for the job, Captain. Seriously. A nice guy like you? It’s almost a shame you’re involved.”

Steve’s hand waved dismissively. “I don’t mind, Agent Rollins. At the end of the day, we’re fighting for a better cause. We’ll get there soon enough. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

Rollins’ shoulders relaxed now as he nodded in agreement. “You’re right. You know, you really are a pretty good guy. I can sort of see why Rumlow likes you so much. Which reminds me; he want me to get you to sign his collector cards so he can show them off. I told you the guy’s insane.”

“Not insane. Eccentric,” Steve corrected with an amused grin. “I’ll happily sign them for him, but the last guy I promised to sign cards for was stabbed and killed by an alien, so I don’t know how wise it is to do so for him.”

Rollins snorted. “Trust me, Captain; the only thing that’s going to take Rumlow out is _himself_.”

“He is too stubborn for even _that_.” Steve smiled. “Popcorn, Agent? Tony has taught me how to use the microwave. It is an incredibly useful invention.”

Rollins couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure. Thanks, Captain. It’s really nice knowing we have you on our side; you’re way different than we had thought you were at first.”

“Think nothing of it; we’re all in it for the same end result, Agent.”

***

The mission came quickly. They’d shipped out to some remote area where only Rumlow and Rollins had authority to know the exact location – Steve didn’t know why; Pierce had a weird way of handling his STRIKE teams.

The orders had been given and teams set; Steve and Winter paired together to get to the intel and steal it, backed up by a small team in case they ran into trouble. Steve didn’t quite understand it – again, Pierce was weird, and he didn’t seem to like debriefing anyone but the team leaders properly; the others just had to follow their commanding officers blindly, and Steve wasn’t into that.

Steve had already set off with his team when Rumlow was pulled aside by one of the rookies, with genuine concern on their face. Rumlow was impatient as he barked for an explanation to be given.

“It’s just…” The rookie looked to his feet uncomfortably. “I don’t know if we can trust the Captain, sir; I’ve heard things…”

“Things like what?!” Rumlow snapped. “’Cause he’s a damn good soldier and an even better teammate!”

“That’s just it, sir…” The rookie scratched the back of his neck as he looked away and into the corner of the Quinjet’s debriefing room, shivering beneath Rumlow’s glare. “I’ve heard people say the Captain is double crossing us. I mean… Why would _Captain America_ be part of _Hydra?_ His _best friend_ was killed because of us!”

“Kid, that was seventy years ago!” Rumlow barked. “He’s _not_ double crossing us! He _is_ one of us! You got that?! Now sit down and shut up and wait until they need extraction!”

“Yes, sir…” the rookie murmured miserably as he went to take a seat at the back of the room with a loud sigh.

In the enemy’s base, Steve had just watched Winter take out almost two-dozen men in the blink of an eye. Steve couldn’t say anything about it, or really even think on it, because more enemy units were spilling from doorways, cornering them. Some of the men from the STRIKE unit were taken out, the ambush coming too quickly to be able to do anything about it in time, but Steve and Winter were a force to be reckoned with as they worked together to take down the ambush.

Steve really was going to have to ask about that surprising amount of strength Winter always displayed, because he just couldn’t get over how strong Winter was.

They recovered quickly, and after tending to the wounds the remaining STRIKE group had received, they continued on. Steve couldn’t help but feel like they’d been set up; there were too many men coming at them, as if their arrival had been anticipated and planned for.

Winter was vicious, Steve had learnt. It was a startling contrast to the docile man he’d taken care of in his apartment, but he had to remember that being out on the field _did_ change people – and really, Steve knew _nothing_ about Winter and what he had been through himself.

That viciousness came in handy when Winter tore through metal gates like a candy wrapper, leading them to the hidden intel they’d been brought in to steal. Intel that was a threat to SHIELD (cough; Hydra; cough cough) and couldn’t remain in the enemy’s hands any longer than it already had.

This was where Steve’s suspicions of it being a set up were proven, because the second Winter’s gloved fingers had curled around the document folder on the desk in the middle of the room, there was the loud whirring of machines, and the unmistakable sound of gunfire all around them. From the corner of Steve’s eyes he could see automated turrets having raised out of the ground from all corners of the room, but before he could really even register the threat, a solid weight had slammed into him and knocked him from his feet.

“Winter?” Steve’s instinct was to get Winter down and protect him, but the positions were reversed, and instead, Steve was below Winter, Winter on top of him with the shield over their heads and Winter’s body wrapped firmly around Steve’s. It wasn’t until the turrets had ran out of ammo did Steve realise the room was now deathly silent, and Winter wasn’t moving. “Winter!”

The turrets had chewed through the room and the people inside it. Steve knew that the only reason he’d been spared was because Winter had covered him with his own bulk; the pain in his legs and hips from where Winter hadn’t covered him enough was evidence enough.

“Winter, no!” Steve pulled Winter into one arm as he used his other hand to touch his earpiece and murmur, “STRIKE Alpha is down; extraction needed. I repeat, STRIKE Alpha is _down_!”

The cussing on the other end of the line was evident of Rumlow’s stress at the words. “Right; don’t move, Cap; we’re on our way.”

Steve clutched Winter tighter, trying not to think about just how similar this felt to when he had lost his best friend all those decades ago.

***

The extraction happened quickly, and Steve wouldn’t stop pacing the Quinjet with a limp until the door to the onboard infirmary was opened, and Rollins was standing before him as he lazily peeled bloodied gloves from his hands.

“How is he?” Steve wasted no time in getting down to business.

Rollins gave a heavy sigh. Steve took it badly before Rollins gave a tired smile and said, “After all those hours of stabilising him? He’ll be fine, Captain Rogers. He’s a tough one.”

Steve’s shoulders fell as he gave a sigh of relief. “Can I see him?”

Rollins nodded and stepped away to allow Steve entrance.  The first thing he saw was Winter, laid flat on a hospital bed with multiple tubes and IVs creeping out from under the blanket draped over him.

Steve looked to Rumlow and Murphy, standing by Winter’s side and doing the final checks. He couldn’t stop his mouth from moving as he blurted out, “It’s my fault…”

“What? No, Cap, it isn’t,” Rumlow promised.

“I led the unit in there; I couldn’t react fast enough to get everyone out.”

Rumlow shook his head. “Cap… If you weren’t on the mission, _no one_ would have survived. I lost all my men, but the asset survived because of your shield. _Someone_ survived, Cap. It wasn’t your fault; it was bad intel. We’d have been moppin’ Winter up off the ground with everyone else if it wasn’t for you.”

Steve sighed. “It’s just… I got my best friend killed back in the war. Some things… you _never_ stop blaming yourself for.”

“That was then, and this is now. He’s _alive_ because of you,” Rumlow reminded. From beside him, Murphy gave a small nod of agreement. “God. Sit down with him and keep him company; I got some asses to kick for feedin’ me bullshit.”

Steve let Rumlow go. He waited until Rumlow had left the room before he came to sit on the bed beside Winter and stroke his hair gently. He looked at Murphy, the distraught expression still present. “He’s gonna be okay, isn’t he?”

“He’ll be just fine,” Murphy promised. “You saved his life having that shield to cover your heads with.”

Steve nodded. He laid down by Winter’s side, tired and sore and in desperate need of rest himself. Winter’s mask had been removed, but the tactical goggles were still present. Faintly, Steve could see his eyes flicker behind them seconds before Winter shifted closer.

“Steve…” It was the first time Steve had ever heard Winter speak. Winter’s voice was hoarse, cracked and unintelligible as he murmured something else. But the way his lips were upturned put a smile of his own on Steve’s face as Steve brushed hair from Winter’s face. “Steve…”

“I’m here,” Steve promised. “I’m here, Winter.”

Winter’s next mumble was a bit more understandable. Steve didn’t think too much on it, though; the morphine that had been pumped through him was undoubtedly the cause. “Who’s Winter…?”

With that, Winter was out again.

Steve closed his eyes to try and join Winter in sleep, but that was before the commotion outside the infirmary door started up. “Alright, where’s the fucker who told me Cap was a traitor?! Come here; I’m gonna kick your fuckin’ ass!”

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle as he closed his eyes and moved closer to Winter. The past was the past and he could _never_ go back and change what happened, but at least he’d _saved_ a life today, even if it were only one.

As much as Steve wanted to, he couldn’t save everyone; it was just something he was still trying to come to terms with.


End file.
